


Hunger

by dieofthatroar



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Anxiety, Eating Disorders, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 19:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12514384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dieofthatroar/pseuds/dieofthatroar
Summary: What nobody knew was that there was a certain high to hunger. A giddy freedom that made him genuinely happy. And he knew that it was sick, it wasn’t the same sort of happy that rides with him across rooftops when he’s all black claws and easy quips. It wasn’t the happy that sits on his shoulder as he whispers into Ladybug’s ear a plan that only he could have come up with. But the hunger was a happiness all the same and the only one available to him in the small room filled with lights and pointing fingers.





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> I worry about this boy.

There are marks photographs can’t capture. Under the lights and makeup and flurry of activity around the shoot, Adrien knew he could keep parts of him invisible. He learned to act like he wasn’t as tired as he felt and as long as the bags under his eyes were hidden by the make-up, nobody would notice. Even the scars accumulated from his long nights as Chat Noir were magicked away by the click of a mouse. People scolded him for the marks, telling him that he was ruining his chances at runway gigs, but never assumed they were more than the average hazards of being a teen.

“You shouldn’t have even been biking in that weather,” his agent Sofie said as Adrien was waiting to get his hair done. He kicked absentmindedly at the chair leg, glad he was turned away so Sofie wouldn’t see him cringe. The metal around the base of the chair made a _ping, ping_ sound when tapped the toe of his shoe against it. The previous night a particularly aggressive akuma had managed to slice a gash into Adrien’s leg and he had told his agent he had skidded in the rain as he was coming back from class. She didn’t question his story, only his common sense.

“Eventually I’m going to have to tell your father that you’ve been going behind his back again,” she continued. “Making careless decisions that have a real impact on your work. You have responsibilities, Adrien. There are some things you have to give up to pursue this career and I know it’s difficult, but most people your age don’t get this kind of opportunity...”

Adrien rolled his eyes, but let Sofie chatter on. It was easier than countering any of her arguments with his half-lies. And he _knew_ he had to be more careful. His responsibilities were more far-reaching than scratches that could be covered up by moving a few pixels around and he wouldn’t let Ladybug down by getting hurt. He would try harder. Chat Noir could do better. Nobody understood perfection like he did.

Because some faults the camera could always see.

And by extension, his father, who Adrien supposed saw more of his son through the perspective of the lens than in person. Those ridiculous summer shoots where he was shuttled to the south of France to do topless spreads at the beach. In those frames, he could see every muscle, rib, and curve in the harsh shadows of the bright sun. He could see how much he had eaten the night before, or when he skipped breakfast and lunch to make up for it. In turn, Adrien could see how he was praised for his lean body--how his father would praise him for pleasing his clients. Those shoots disgusted him, really, but there was only so much he could push against his father’s wishes before the man broke. The precarious amount of freedom he enjoyed was enough to fight for.

“Adrien?” Sofie said. She was standing now, opening the door. “Did you hear me? They’re waiting at stage 3.”

He shook himself and gathered his things. She brushed her fingers over his arm as he passed, her frown dissolving from reprimand to concern.

“Are you okay?”

Adrien tilted his head to the side, giving her the most genuine smile he could conjure. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

When Adrien got back home, the first thing he did was dive headfirst into his bed. Shoots tired him out more than school or even saving Paris. Adrien was contracted for a series of ads for this sunglasses company that sometimes worked with his father and he had only completed two days of the rigorous week-long production. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Strewn across his desk was the chemistry and literature homework he had ignored this afternoon. There was a math test tomorrow as well. Groaning, he pushed himself back up from the inviting covers and padded over to the scattered pages.

“That looks so _boring,_ ” Plagg whined, zipping above Adrien’s head.

“ _You_ don’t have to do it,” he said.

“But I have to watch you do it. It’s worse because I don’t have anyone to entertain me. I get bored all alone, you know.”

“You’re only upset I don’t have time to cater to all your cheese cravings.”

“How could you think that’s all I want from my chosen companion!” Plagg gasped. “After all we’ve been through?”

“There’s some extra in my bag over by the door,” he said, waving him away from the desk. “Have as much as you want, but I’m _not_ cleaning it up if you barf all over the floor again.”

“It was a furball!”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t have fur.”

Adrien planned: literature first, then math. If he didn’t have time to get to the chemistry, he could finish it during lunch tomorrow because he had his science last in the day. By his desk, he kept a cork board where he tacked up to-do lists and full schedules. Step by step, he would get it all done. Cross each thing off and move on to the next. Grades were important too, as his father kept reminding him. His position at the public school was determined by how well he did. If Adrien started to let his scores slip, it would be back to homeschooling and long empty halls with only Nathalie to keep him company.

As if he needed more consequences, more reason, than he already had for himself to do well. He remembered that only a few years before, he had actually looked forward to his shoots because it was the only time he would be around others, even if they were talking to his image more than his intellect. He would do anything needed to keep his performance at school up. Check each box. Do exactly as he was told.

“I found this in the bag too,” Plagg said when he returned, dropping an apple onto open pages of his book. Adrien took a quick look at the fruit, mottled and bruised. It must have been sitting at the bottom of his bag for a couple days. He brushed it to the side and picked up his pen.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Plagg said. “You didn’t get a break for dinner today.”

Adrien picked up the apple, passing it back and forth and feeling the smoothness of the skin. “Smells like your cheese,” he said, noting how intently Plagg was watching him.

“That should make it taste better.”

Plagg didn’t stop staring, floating just above the text he was supposed to be annotating. The apple was cool in Adrien’s fingers. Cold and solid and more object than food, really. Finally, he brought it up to his mouth and took a bite.

“I really have to get this work done,” Adrien said, mouth half-full. “I can’t do it if you keep looking at me like that.”

Plagg sighed and flew up to the shelf where he slept--an amalgamation of various cloths, old socks, and small pillows. Yawning, he buried himself in his nest.

“Suit yourself,” the kwami said. “At least try to get some sleep tonight.”

“Don’t worry about me, Plagg.”

 

* * *

 

There was something soothing about the bakery sounds in the morning. Marinette’s mother shouting back orders and the scrape of metal and wood, oven doors opening and closing. The smell reached her and pulled her out of bed. A gentle tug and the promise of breakfast. Was today a toast day? Or a pastry day? She wanted jam, that was for sure. With the berries in season, her father would try out variations for Marinette to try and she would get to pick the next one that would be featured out in the window display.

But she was already late for school, again. The morning rush wasn’t as good of an alarm as she would have hoped and Tikki dawdled too until she got her own morning sweet fix. She was out the door ten minutes late with breakfast in hand (the “uglies” in a batch of otherwise delicious tarte), cookies in her bag, and a snack or two she might share later.

 

The Akuma struck during their lunch hour. Marinette groaned as soon as she heard the screams. Why did they always have to have the worst timing? She still had three questions left on her chemistry homework and now she would have to hand it in incomplete unless they took care of this problem quickly.

“Tikki?”

“Ready!”

She transformed and jumped onto the roof, determining where the sounds were coming from. Moving in the opposite direction of the flow of escaping pedestrians, Marinette pushed her way to the source of the chaos. Explosions went off in the street, splitting cars in half and crumbling the pavement under her feet as she landed.

“What is _that_?” she said. A robot-like monster, at least two stories tall, trudged down the street, the metallic sound of grinding and rumbling gears filling the air.

Chat Noir was suddenly beside her, already breathing hard, tail twitching and eyes focused on the enemy.

“He’s calling himself Electro-Man,” he explained. “Short-circuiting the wires and causing electrical fires.”

“And that’s what’s causing the explosions,” Marinette said.

“You could say he has a _short fuse_ ,” Chat said, grinning.

“Ugh.”

“What? I know you think I’m funny. I can feel the _electricity_ between us.”

“Do we know where the Akuma is?”

Chat climbed the nearest wall and perched just above Marinette’s line of sight. “Besides all the mechanical armor, he only has one thing on him, that screwdriver.”

Marinette looked up to where Chat was crouched, noticing a slight tremor in his legs as he pushed himself up again. How long had he been fighting before she arrived?

“Right,” she said, nodding for her kitty to follow. “Let’s get him.”

The traffic light was flashing incoherently and cars were on fire. As soon as she landed in the intersection, Marinette wrenched open the car doors, pulling out the people still stuck inside and directing them to safety. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Chat doing the same in a burning building that had been blocked by a fallen telephone pole.

She needed to contain Electro-Man before any more civilians were injured. Neither she nor Chat would be able to grab the screwdriver in open space like this, where wires and machines could spark and light all around them. Marinette spun around, trying to spot higher ground. There, the balconies of the building where Chat was still working on dislodging the pole. They would be able to fight at a level they could reach the screwdriver and end this quickly.

Marinette couldn’t lure him there until it was clear, but the Electro-Man was already starting to move in the opposite direction.

“Chat,” she called out. “Hurry up!”

He shot her a look that said something along the lines of _I’m working on it_ , but Marinette couldn’t just wait and let the Akuma get away. She swung down to the pavement, then in one smooth motion, threw her yo-yo and tangled the mechanical legs in the string. When she pulled hard, Electro-Man stumbled but didn’t fall. Instead, he turned his eyes on her.

“That’s right,” Marinette said. “Come get me.”

She ran to his back, guiding him back toward the middle of the intersection. Clinging to the traffic light, Marinette looked from enemy back to Chat to see if she had an opening yet. There were finally people sprinting out from the door, but Electro-Man was getting closer. With each step, she could feel the rumbling shake more and more, and when she felt the crackle and snap of sparks under her hands, she jumped away from the light as quickly as she could.

“ _Chat!_ ” Marinette snapped.

“I’m going as fast as I can!”

She turned her head and saw the last of the civilians in the burning building. “Carry them out!”

Chat hesitated for a second, before nodding, offering his hand out to an older woman and leaping out of the smoke. Two more, and Marinette had to keep the enemy’s attention. Step by step, she rotated around the streets, throwing her yo-yo to distract Electro-Man each time he tried to step away. Chat returned and grabbed the next civilian. One more. Marinette leaped onto another roof, wrapped her yo-yo around the great robotic chest and kept him still. Chat came back, took the last person out, and Marinette released her hold, swinging back to the building and landing on one of the balconies. Electro-Man’s heavy steps followed her. She called for her lucky charm and found herself staring at a roll of heavy rope.

Marinette knew what she had to do. Electro-Man wasn’t too agile, and when he was knocked off balance by her yo-yo or one of the bigger explosions, he would try to steady himself. Here, in close quarters, he would be forced to use his hands as leverage, exposing the screwdriver in his hand.

Chat landed beside her. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and he leaned on his staff to rest. Marinette pointed down at the ground level, at the pole that had originally blocked the doorway, and handed him the rope.

“If you get him to stumble, I’ll be up here to get the Akuma,” she explained.

He took a deep breath, nodded, and jumped off the balcony, landing heavily on the pavement below. Marinette fixed her eyes back on the enemy. There wasn’t anything electric near her, so until the metal monster could reach her physically, she wasn’t in any immediate danger. She watched Chat wrap the rope around Electro-Man’s metallic legs, back up to the curb, and yank. Electro-Man stumbled. Chat adjusted his grip and pulled harder and this time the metal legs buckled. Instead of falling toward the building as Marinette had hoped, however, he fell toward Chat Noir.

“Move!” she yelled.

Chat didn’t move. He stood petrified on the spot as tons of metal hurdled toward him.

“Chat,” Marinette shouted again. “What are you doing?”

She plunged down toward her partner and pulled him away from growing shadow of Electro-Man. As she tackled him and they rolled out of the way, the crash of metal armor settled beside them. Taking her chance, Marinette scrambled up and rushed toward Electro-Man’s now exposed hands and wrenched the screwdriver from his grip.

She snapped it and purified the Akuma before making her way back to where she had left Chat.

“Nice job,” Chat said, holding out his fist. It was shaking. She frowned.

“It was not a _nice job,_ ” she hissed at him. “You almost got yourself crushed out there. What were you thinking?”

“I…” he started, then shook his head. “Sorry, I... miscalculated. I didn’t think he would fall like that.”

“Miscalculated? You don’t have to calculate anything! You could see him coming at you from miles away, you just didn’t do anything about it! And you took forever with the civilians, what if one of them got hurt? What’s the matter with you?”

Chat’s ears flattened against his head and he turned away. Marinette caught herself, her words sounding accusatory even in her ears, but she found she didn’t regret the way it came out. She _was_ angry. Chat needed to know he couldn’t fool around and have it be okay with her. He’d scared her.

“My Lady…”

“No,” she said. “I’m too tired for any of that. Next time, make sure you do better.”

Without another word, she swung back up to the rooftops and out of Chat’s view.

 

The next morning, Marinette went to school early to study for her history exam away from the distractions of the morning bakery rush. No time to savor the smells or ask her dad about his next creation. She had handed her chemistry homework in only half-complete and a small part of her blamed Chat for that. She knew it wasn’t his fault that the Akuma struck when it did, or that it was difficult to bring him down, but she did think that maybe they could have finished faster if he had paid more attention. If he wasn’t so out of it.

She was the only one in their classroom, and it was almost peaceful. She brought a couple of croissants she pinched from her dad as she left to munch on while she poured over her textbook.

Marinette found she lost track of time because the next time she looked up Alya was slipping into her seat beside her with a cheery hello. A few other students were already mingling, chatting about their work last night, if they thought the exam would be hard, what their plans were that weekend. Adrien followed them in but said nothing as he reached his desk. He simply took out his books and turned a tired eye to the board. Not even a nod to Nino.

“Do you think Adrien looks a bit… I don’t know… tired, or sick or something recently?” Alya whispered to her.

“He mentioned something about a week-long shoot he has until Saturday,” Marinette said. “Maybe it’s just a lot of work.”

“Maybe,” Alya said, then went back to scribbling in her notebook.

Marinette knew what it was like to be in the public eye, how hard it was to keep up appearances, but she could also disappear into Marinette after every action as Ladybug. Adrien was Adrien the model and Adrien the student. She felt sorry that it seemed to follow him wherever he went. It must be tiring. She knew he hated the girls who stopped him in the halls asking for his autograph, but also knew he was too nice to stop them. Then, she felt bad that she might be just like all of them. Giggling over a supermodel.

She wasn’t though, was she? She blushed and giggled, but it was his sincerity that did her in. The way he ducked his head and smiled like he didn’t want her to see when she complimented him. The way he gave his heart, in full, to everything he did.

During the break between their next two classes, Marinette tapped Adrien on the shoulder and offered him her second croissant, saying she brought extra and was too full to finish it. She remembered that a few months ago when he visited her house, he had said he liked them. This time, Adrien smiled that sweet smile, but declined, saying he was going home for lunch and didn’t want to spoil his appetite.

“They look really good though,” he said. In consolation to her feelings, or because he really thought so, Marinette couldn’t tell.

“Why don’t you take it then,” Marinette insisted. “Eat it whenever you want. After lunch, after school, whenever.”

Adrien looked slowly from her to the croissant before reaching his hand out to accept. “Thanks, Mari.”

“No problem!”

 

* * *

 

 

There were only two more days of the shoot. Only two. Adrien could make it, step by step. Turn and grin and pose and make himself _just so_.

What nobody knew was that there was a certain high to hunger. A giddy freedom that made him genuinely _happy_. And he knew that it was sick, it wasn’t the same sort of happy that rides with him across rooftops when he’s all black claws and easy quips. It wasn’t the happy that sits on his shoulder as he whispers into Ladybug’s ear a plan that only he could have come up with. It wasn’t the joy of doing so well that his Lady can’t help but laugh at his jokes. Even the worst ones. But the hunger was a happiness all the same and the only one available to him in the small room filled with lights and pointing fingers.

It was his and only his and felt something close to freedom.

On the way from school to the studio, he tossed Marinette’s croissant into the trash. It wasn’t that it didn’t smell wonderful, of course. Food didn’t stop smelling like food, or else his hunger wouldn’t be real. He was happy that she’d thought of him and reached out to him, but he just threw it away? She wouldn’t know though. It was more important that he was in shape for the rest of this shoot. That none of the pictures would betray his stray thoughts. That the scribbled numbers on his board at home stayed green and _good_ and that yes, he could look at that and know he was doing well.

During a break, Adrien scrolled through his notifications. Two texts from Nino. One from the group chat with Nino, Alya, and Marinette. Nothing from Nathalie or home.

His father hadn’t called. He said he would stop by one of these days. Promised. But Adrien wasn’t holding out hope. At least a call would be nice.

Just so he could know if he was doing it right.

So he wouldn’t get that look later. That stare that used to send him searching for his mother when she was still here.

Adrien was shuttled in front of the camera again.

 _Flash._ “Turn to your right? That’s it.” _Flash, flash._ It reminded him of the light of a police car sometimes. The warning before he would need to find an empty alley to transform. “Back up a little. Looser in the shoulders.” The panic before he knew what was happening. Before he had a plan or Ladybug to catch him if he fell. _Flash, flash_. “Good, yes. Stay just like that.”

 _Stay just like that_ , his father had said before he’d been allowed to join a public school. _Why can’t you stay where I can see you? Stay where I’ve put you, just like that_ . A little doll on strings that were pulled too tight. And yet, like his hunger, he basked in it. If he could walk on tightropes to please his father, he did without looking down. _Please, tell me,_ Adrien would always think. _Tell me you love me like this_.

Adrien thought the lights were making him more dizzy than usual. The lightheaded feeling came and went and he asked for some water before continuing.

 _Flash_. Pose. Repeat.

His father had come to Adrien’s first shoot because it was for his own line of clothing. A family affair, see. The magazines would write about it. Little feel-good pieces about how good of a father figure he was, a picture-perfect image of the upscale Paris family. With his father’s heavy hand on his shoulder, Adrien thought _this_ was the moment that everything would change. That he would see more of the mysterious man behind closed doors, too busy for what he’d said was maid’s work--taking his small son to the park, walking him to the library to listen to readings, going to his music lessons. But this, the million eyes on them, they shared, right? They were in this together, right?

Right?

Adrien grimaced as the next flash went off, a hiss leaving his mouth that was far too feline for his liking. He blinked and twisted, finding his angles again. He thought he could smell the Paris sewers under his nose, too sensitive for his liking.

“Adrien, more of that intensity, yes!”

He thought about the smell of fire in his nostrils after yesterday’s fight. The burns on his hands from when he couldn’t move fast enough. Nobody could see them now, not with how fast he healed, but his mind still rubbed Ladybug’s words raw like her anger was a scar of its own. _What’s the matter with you? Do better._

Do better.

He showed his teeth and wished he had his claws.

Do better.

 _Flash_. “Look to the left now.”

No. No, this was not the place for Chat. He didn’t belong here where anyone could see. Smile for the camera, make it look like everything is fine. Everything is _right_. No messy nights or broken promises. Adrien dulled his eyes and looked into the camera through heavy lids. Nobody wanted to know his problems. The world spun, just a little, each time he moved his head. But it was only his world. The camera would never know.

“Wonderful. With that smolder, all the girls will eat you up.”

 

Adrien messed up again when he got home. He’d nibbled the dinner of sausage and bread the Gorilla had for him in the car, then took it up to his room to eat the rest. He ate all of it and it made his stomach hurt like he’d swallowed little pins. _Do better_ still echoed in his head and nothing in him felt right. He threw it up into the toilet and washed out his mouth.

He couldn’t hear his father’s footsteps anywhere in the house. Not in his office or on the second floor. Adrien wondered if, wherever he was, he could hear how Adrien walked half-scared to make a noise, half-worried that if he didn’t, his father would forget he existed. He kicked off his clothes and wondered how long it would be for anyone to notice if he didn’t.

Adrien took a breath. No, not that. That wasn’t what he wanted.

He climbed into his bath and turned on the shower, coaxing the water hotter and hotter until it burned.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later, another Akuma hit. This time, it was worse.

Marinette had seen very little of Chat Noir between then and Electro-Man. Once on a patrol, though they had both been pretty silent, and once as Marinette, when she was walking back to the bakery from dinner with Alya. She had looked up and seen his shadow in the moonlight, stoic and silent, and she wondered if he was mad at her. If she had been too harsh in her rebuke and he would rather patrol alone.

But why did it feel like it had been some time since she’d seen her kitty? _Really_ seen him and his cocky smile and his smart tongue? She missed him. Missed the way he would ask her for advice as if they were best friends and the masks were nothing much besides.

But they were friends, weren’t they? Wouldn’t he would tell her if he needed help?

With an Akuma on the loose, they would have to work through whatever was going on between them. Marinette hoped that their silence wouldn’t spawn mistakes.

The akumatized person was a woman this time, dressed in some sort of skin-tight racing outfit with a number on the back.

“I should have won!” the woman yelled at the people around her. “I deserve the medal! I worked the hardest, I trained the longest. You’ll all see how slow you are compared to me, Champion!”

Champion turned to a group of civilians behind her and threw a glowing disc at them - a gold medal - and suddenly they were all running in slow motion. Marinette ran past the crowd, ducking behind the thickest bunch to hide her movements as she kept an eye on Champion. She spotted Chat on the other side of the crowd and started moving toward him smoothly, so she wouldn’t catch Champion’s attention.

“You think you all deserve the things you win,” Champion was spitting as she threw more and more medals. “None of you know what it’s like to work hard and get _nothing._ ”

Marinette slipped into a space by Chat’s side, whispering in his ear, “If she notices us trying to get close, we’ll be stuck like all of them. We need to figure out a way to distract her.”

Chat nodded. It was clear to both of them where the Akuma was hidden--there was a bronze medal around the Champion’s neck. Together, they moved to the right and hid behind a large van.

“Allow me, my Lady,” Chat said, indicating that he’d move first. “I promise I’ll be purrfectly on top of things this time!”

“Chat…” Marinette started. “I’m sorry about what I said…”

“Don’t be. I made a mistake. You were right to tell me off.”

“But I didn’t have to be cruel.”

Chat looked at her then, long and hard. His green eyes flashed, unblinking, and he pulled out his staff. He didn’t say anything, only bowed before taking off running. Marinette shuffled back into position, watching how Champion followed Chat’s movements up and out of the road and into a nearby park.

As it turned out, Champion _was_ fast. Chat was at full speed on all fours as Champion chased him, throwing medals at him every chance she got. Chat lept and dodged to stay out of harm’s way. Marinette stayed a safe distance behind him, following their movements and waiting for a chance to strike. On the next pass in front of the bench, Champion was close enough for Marinette to reach out and grab the medal. Marinette stood, jumped, and threw her yo-yo toward her target. Before she could feel the connection through the string, however, she saw Champion turn swiftly on the balls of her feet and move toward her.

“Cataclysm!”

Before Marinette knew what was happening, Chat had grabbed her, pulling her out of the way of a falling tree. As the tree hit the ground, the dust obscured her view of Champion. Pulling her yo-yo back to her, she turned on Chat.

“What was that for?”

“Champion was going to get you.”

“I was so close though, I could have reached…” Marinette stopped, mid-sentence, as Chat began to sway on his feet in front of her. “What’s wrong? Did Champion hit you with something?”

Chat was breathing heavily, resting his hands on his knees then bringing his knees to the ground. He shook his head at her question, looking up at her. His eyes were far away, unfocused. “Sorry…”

“Chat?”

He collapsed onto the ground with a dull thud, and Marinette’s heart jumped. “No, Chat… damn it.”

Marinette could hear Champion stirring on the other side of the tree trunk as the dust settled. The only way to get Chat out safely was to end this. Marinette called for her lucky charm and received a discus. She turned it over in her hand and knew exactly what she had to do. It was a quick duck and throw before Marinette was able to remove the medal from Champion.

After she released the Akuma and purified everything, Marinette ran back to where Chat was still unconscious in the dirt.

“Kitty?” she said, checking his pulse and checking where he was hurt. No blood that she could find. He didn’t wake up though, even when his ring beeped, warning of his impending detransformation. Marinette didn’t know what to do. There was no way she would leave him anywhere alone, not when he was like this, but they promised each other they would keep their identities secret.

Before any civilians could find them, Marinette took Chat Noir in her arms and carried him away.

She was surprised at how light he felt and tried to remember if he had always felt like this. She had carried him enough times--throwing him into danger during fights, or protecting him from an attack, or even the small moments she cherished during their patrols when Chat would grab her from behind and she would leap across rooftops with him on her back.

Though, when was the last time he’d snuck up from behind and playfully whispered, “surprise” into her ear, ready for her exact her revenge?

Marinette soon found the building she was looking for--a hotel just a few blocks from the park--where she knew she could sneak into an empty room and lock it from the inside. She made her way in through the window and laid Chat out on one of the twin beds. His ring beeped again, signaling only a couple minutes until he revealed himself. She gathered blankets and fetched a glass of water for when he woke up.

The ring beeped again.

Marinette checked the locks on the door and closed the windows.

Then, a flash of green, and she turned back toward the bed.

Marinette held her breath and considered leaving. Let Chat rest off whatever had happened to him in the fight and keep both their identities safe.

But what if it was more serious than that?

Marinette turned.

There, she saw Adrien, sprawled helplessly across the blankets and sheets, dark shadows under his eyes now not hidden by the mask and sallow skin not covered by his costume. The shallow breaths looked more delicate when coming from his frame than Chat’s.

She wanted to cry. Marinette had never wanted to find out like this. One day, when they felt safe enough with each other and they didn’t think it would be a risk, they would have told each other. “Surprise,” Chat would say into her ear and she’d know, just _know._ He would have been happy, she thought, that they were friends out of costume too. She’d wanted them to be more. All those feelings felt far away now.

“Ladybug,” a small voice said to her. His Kwami, of course. She spotted the small cat-like spirit floating by Adrien’s shoulder. “I’m Plagg.”

“What’s wrong with him? What can I do?”

“Food, bring food. Actually, no, something he can drink. Something with sugar. Or juice.”

Marinette stepped closer to where Plagg was fussing by Adrien’s face. Trying to will him awake, she pressed her fingers to his forehead, imagining the way his brow line curved in the same way when he smiled as Chat and as Adrien.

“ _Now,_ Ladybug!”

She startled, then nodded, heading out of the hotel room. Marinette let go of her own transformation when she stepped into the elevator.

“Tikki…” she said.

“I know.”

“It’s…”

“I know.”

“What do I do?”

Her Kwami didn’t have a chance to answer before the elevator doors opened once more, depositing Marinette into the lobby. She made her way to the nearest market, putting a whole host of different foods and drinks into her basket, as well as some cookies for Tikki, and hurried back to the hotel. Before stepping into the room, she changed back into Ladybug.  


* * *

 

Adrien woke in bits and pieces. There was a ringing in his ear and a couple voices around him, talking. He couldn’t make out what they were saying. He felt a little like he got punched in the gut, then remembered the fight in the park. Was he careless with the tree? Was he hit somewhere? He mentally checked his body for pain, but found he felt fine. Maybe just a bit woozy. He lifted his head off the soft pillow and spotted Ladybug.

“My Lady?” he said, watching Ladybug pace the length of the room. She jumped, whipping her head to meet his eye.

“Y-you… How are you feeling?”

“Nothing a little catnap can’t fix,” he tried to joke, but instead of relaxing, he saw Ladybug tense up. She bit her lip as she tiptoed toward him. Like she was afraid. Of him? “What’s wrong?”

“Adrien.”

His heart jumped, and he looked down saw a t-shirt and skin rather than his costume. Damn it. _Damn it_. “How do you know who I am?”

Again, Ladybug hesitated. “Your photos are all over the city,” she explained. “Super-modeling is not compatible with super-heroing, Chat, what were you thinking?”

“I was…”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said and shoved a protein shake into his hand. “Drink this.”

Adrien took it in his hand and sniffed it before turning back to Ladybug. “Look, I messed up again, I know. Big time. I know you wanted to keep our secret identities hidden but I…”

“ _Drink_ , Adrien. Your blood sugar is probably way too low.”

He sighed and brought the bottle to his lips. It tasted like mud. He swallowed the mouthful and placed it on the bedside table. “Let me explain.”

“Not before you finish it.”

Adrien looked back at the bottle. “It tastes terrible.”

“So eat this then,” she said, dumping a box of granola bars onto the bed. “Or one of these.” She picked some fruit out of a bag on the floor. He stared at them.

“Plagg,” he said, feeling his panic rising.

“Can’t you do as she says?” The black Kwami answered.

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing I can’t figure out for myself,” Ladybug said. “Why can’t you just _eat_ something?”

Adrien shrank back, looking for the familiar streak of black in the air. “Plagg?” His vision was swimming and he couldn’t find him. “Plagg, why…”

“Don’t blame Plagg for anything, he’s looking out for you,” Ladybug said. She held out another shake.

“I’m fine.” He pushed her hand away.

“Adrien…”

“Don’t _call_ me that,” Adrien snapped. Ladybug paused, breath stuck in her throat, and Adrien felt nauseous.

“Why?”

“Because…” His hands were shaking. He couldn’t get them to stop. “Because when I’m with you I’m not Adrien. You don’t know Adrien. You know Chat Noir. Please…”

Ladybug pushed the box and the fruit off to the side and sank down into the bed beside him. “Chat… I just… You scared me today. You’re still scaring me and I want to help. Why couldn’t you have come to me before this?”

“Because there’s nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong? You passed out in the middle of an Akuma fight, don’t tell me what’s fine.”

“I miscalculated.”

“ _What_ did you miscalculate?”

Adrien thought of the printed sheets in the drawer of his desk, the pages of handwritten notes he took before he memorized the calories of every snack he touched. The nutritionist’s voice in his head every time he reached for a sweet after dinner when his father was just starting to book him jobs and the way she tutted as he brushed off crumbs that had fallen into his lap and the numbers that made him feel safe after that. His numbers, nobody could touch. He found a balance, but he’d ruined it. He’d ruined it. He shut his eyes and pretended he was anywhere but here.

“I can handle myself,” he said.

“Adri-... Chat, you would have transformed out there if I hadn’t… and what happens next time? I can’t keep protecting you like this.”

“Well I’m sorry for being such a bother, then,” he said, before sinking back into the bed and turning over. He tugged the blankets fast over his arms, the only way to get them to be still.

“Chat Noir…”

“I’m tired, just let me sleep it off.”

Ladybug was quiet. Adrien was facing the windows and couldn’t see her reaction.

 

The voices were loud when he woke again.

“You could have stopped him! He shouldn’t have been out there in this condition.”

“You think I could have stopped him?”

“Yes! Don’t let him change! Don’t let him fight!”

“I can’t do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think Hawkmoth’s Kwami wants to do what he does? Or did you just assume he was a baddy, just like his wielder? He called on me and I had to follow.”

“Then you could have left. Given the miraculous to someone else.”

“That wouldn’t have cured him, Ladybug. It would have only left him more alone than he already was.”

Adrien decided that he had heard enough. “I’m awake, you know. I can hear you.”

“Deciding to talk to me now?” she said.

He opened his eyes. Ladybug was still in red and black as if he’d really expected her to reveal herself to him as well. And yet, the pit in his stomach that twisted between empty and nausea grew. Like she was his hunger and he could never fulfill it. It would keep coming up zero, so he’d rather starve himself.

“What time is it?”

“Almost six.”

“Shit, I need to go home,” Adrien said. He sat up too fast and his head went fuzzy, but as soon as he rode the wave of vertigo to the other side, he got to his feet. “My father, he’ll…”

“We need to talk to him.”

Adrien spun, “And say what exactly?”

“Chat, you can’t do this alone--”

“What, are you going to tell him I’m Chat Noir? He’d laugh at that, _hero of Paris_ , he doesn’t even think I can tie my shoes correctly.”

Ladybug drew back. “The eating, Chat. You need help.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“How can you say that?”

There was him, there was Chat, there was the divide between the two that cracked and bled and ended up here, in a hotel room with the person he… loved? Respected? Admired? Would do anything for, at least that was for sure. But his hunger wasn’t out there in the world, wasn’t a tangible thing unless he wanted it to be. And she… she wanted him to speak about it. To piece himself apart and tell his _father_ , who hardly even knew the version of him that was perfect. “No. You don’t know him. I… I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“He’ll want you to be better,” Ladybug said.

Adrien didn’t think so, as sad as that was. He loved his father. He wanted to be loved by him. But he didn’t think his father would want him at all if he knew this part of him.

“You either tell him yourself,” Ladybug said. “Or, I do.”

It was a choice. She was giving him a choice and it felt like jumping off a cliff.

 

(But it wasn’t a choice, it was an obligation. He could never say no to Ladybug.

He could never say no to his father, or the doctors that came by his bed and stuck wires all over his chest.

He was only brave enough to say no to himself and that had got him here.

Gabriel Agreste changed the locks on the doors and sent Nathalie to watch him eat his meals. The bathrooms were barred until the food hit his stomach and wouldn’t come back up.)

 

* * *

 

 

Adrien hadn’t returned to school since the incident with Champion. Since Chat… no, it was difficult for her to think about it even now. Connecting the two was like opening a door to a room and finding it different than it’d been every other time you’d seen it.

Her grandmother had moved out of her old house when Marinette’s grandfather died. The last time Marinette looked around, when the movers had packed everything in boxes and rolled them out the door, it was surreal. She turned a corner, expecting the side table with the little ceramic cow lamp to be on the other side, and both surprised and not when she found nothing. She kept reaching, kept looking at the dusty corners of closets, to remember what was there. But her footsteps were too hollow without the rugs to dampen them and the living room to empty to speak.

Every time she thought of Adrien, her mind flickered between Chat’s green eyes and the hollowed out cheeks she’s seen when his transformation released. She looked for joy, for relief in the discovery, but only felt tears prickle her eyes and pushed away the feeling.

Stupid. She was so stupid for not seeing it before.

The other kids talked. Gossiped about the “international shoot” Adrien was pulled away for, then again about the trip he took with his father. Only Nino spiked his words with worry.

“He’s only texted me a few times,” he said. “And he doesn’t even say where he is. What’s going on? Adrien hates missing school.”

Marinette didn’t have the energy to say Adrien was fine. She let the others fill in the blanks for her.

Later, when she walked home, she spoke softly under her breath. “Did I do the right thing, Tikki?”

 

She visited him as Ladybug because she wouldn’t even know where he was as Marinette. And Ladybug didn’t have doors or bodyguards to stop her. He wasn’t allowed visitors, Adrien explained to her with venom in his voice she’d never heard there before. His father didn’t allow him to speak to anyone, in case it came out in the press that his son was crazy. That his son didn’t know the difference between a _good_ body and a _sick_ body and _of course the rich boy would have such a silly problem_.

Marinette found she would quite like to punch Gabriel Agreste in the jaw.

“At least you can come,” Adrien said with more worry in his eyes than relief. “For now, I mean. I don’t want to force you. I just…”

“Chat.”

“But if you’d just let me _transform_.”

“No.”

“You have no idea how much…”

“ _No,_ Chat. I’m not a doctor. I have no idea what you need, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Or, you could de-transform. I could talk to you as both regular…”

“No.”

Adrien scowled. “You know who I am. And I _know_ we didn’t want to tell each other, but now that you know, I feel like I can’t…” he waved his arms, trying to find language for a feeling that Marinette knew there were no words for. “We aren’t on the same level, you know? I’m… whatever I am… and you’re _Ladybug_.”

“You’re Adrien Agreste.”   
“Stop that.”

“You are,” Marinette said, trying to tell him how important that was. How important _he_ was, to so many people, as himself. But she couldn’t say more without giving herself away. “Adrien is on the same level as Ladybug.”

“ _Stop_ ,” Adrien spat. “Modelling isn’t _important_ . It isn’t _good_ or _right_ or anything. Ladybug, you’re… you deserve the praise you get. I don’t.”

“Chat.”

Adrien tilted his head, and Marinette could easily imagine how his ears would twitch. “Chat, you deserve it too.”

“Not enough for you,” he mumbled.

“Don’t do that,” Marinette said. “You know why I can’t reveal myself to you.”

“No, actually. I don’t.” He looked out the window, to where the Eiffel tower stood just beyond the silhouette of buildings. To where Marinette still saved the day, alone.

“I still have duties, Chat.”

“Then you have no right to say anything about who I am.”

“We have to be able to do our best work out there,” Marinette said. “It’s hard for us both, but…”

Adrien closed his eyes, slowly and still so cat-like. “You should leave.”

“Wha-”

“Leave,” Adrien said. “It’s for the good of us all, right? So, stop wasting your time with one civilian, Ladybug. Leave.”

 

As many times as she said it to Adrien, Marinette didn’t know why she won’t reveal herself to him. It was as if she thought the knowledge would be one more burden. One more obstacle in his road to recovery, something to overcome. Because Marinette is the shy girl Adrien had to tend to at school, watch over and try not to scare. Marinette is a liability, while Ladybug can make him _better_.

But was that true? Marinette didn’t know.

She couldn’t risk it.

Paris, she said, was the reason. The thing that was more important to either of them. But really, Marinette was just a coward.

 

* * *

 

There were days it wasn’t as bad. When he didn’t see numbers as judgments and he didn’t see food as a source of guilt. The doctors told him his electrolytes were normalizing, that his heart rate was increasing.

They said nothing of his weight. Sometimes, he wished they did.

There were more days that it felt like it didn’t matter. His therapist was paid more to keep quiet than talk to him, a figure turned outward, like a guard. She tapped her foot when he wouldn’t tell her everything. Though, that was one thing he told the truth about. _Adrien kept secrets._ But the secrets themselves were his to covet.

“You’ve got to let go of control,” she said, impatient with him for the fourth time that hour. “Trust others.”

He wanted to laugh. He couldn’t trust _her_. Definitely not his father. He couldn’t even trust Ladybug. He had kicked her out two out of the last three times she’d visited, but she kept coming back. He didn’t know if he should hate her for not listening to him, or love her for staying. But he couldn’t tell this therapist that, about his only friend that saw him like this.

“Do you want me to talk about my mother again?” he said instead.

 

* * *

 

Plagg had a habit of buzzing around her head each time Marinette climbed into Adrien’s window, prodding her for cheese and entertainment. Sometimes, he asked her about Tikki. Sometimes about any Akuma attacks. Sometimes, when she stepped into a quiet room past midnight after a long night of patrol and Adrien was already asleep, he told her about their day.

She heard about how there was a time for everything. A time he’d be sent down to breakfast, a time he’d wait for the dishes to be cleared, a time that Nathalie would talk to Adrien he wouldn’t respond--a strange reversal of how it used to be. Doctors visits, therapist visits, and only once in awhile, Gabriel, stoic at the top of the stairs.

“You said he can transform, even if you don’t want to,” Marinette said, keeping her voice down. Adrien’s breathing was steady and slow. Calming. “But he hasn’t tried.”

“No, he hasn’t.”

“Did he talk to you about it?”

Plagg floated up to her shoulder and landed nestled in her hair. “With everyone telling him what to do, he takes your word above them all.”

She snorted. “He hates it when I…”

“You don’t hear him talk about you when you aren’t here. _I can’t let her down_ , he says. _Ladybug is waiting for me_.”

“I don’t want him to do it for me.”

“I don’t want him to do it alone,” Plagg said.

Marinette thought of how long it took for her to see Adrien… to see Chat… for all of him, not the bits and pieces that she was infatuated with. She’d cut out magazine ads and pasted them on her wall. She’d watch Adrien from afar and thought he was perfect. _Expected_ him to be perfect. It didn’t make her feel better to know that Adrien thought the same of her. What if it could destroy her too?

“Ladybug?” Adrien’s voice, hoarse with sleep, found them. “Is that you?”

“Just checking in, you can go back to sleep.”

Marinette thought she could see his green eyes flash in the night before he turned over with a sigh and wandered back into a dream.

 

The next time she visited, Marinette and Adrien sat cross-legged on the floor, side by side, as the TV flickered before them, audio turned low. She became comfortable as Ladybug with no danger around, letting her personality as Marinette show through, more and more.

She chattered on about reality shows she kept up with, who she rooted for and who she wanted to go. They were mostly the ones about design, but a few others made it through.

“You’d think I’d love the Great British Sewing Bee best,” she said. “But Bake Off holds that place in my heart.”

“I’ve seen the Great British Bake Off.”

“Isn’t it wonderful? I watch it with my parents. Sometimes, we try to make the signature pieces before they put out the recipes, to see if we can do it.”

“Oh, wow,” Adrien said. “You must be really good. Not that I didn’t expect that of my Lady.”

“Oh, no, not me as much as my f…” Marinette blinked. Sometimes, in these moments, she forgot that she was Ladybug instead of herself. If Adrien noticed her hesitation, he didn’t say anything.

The TV flickered to a commercial. A woman’s voice droned on about bath soap.

“We can watch an episode if you’d like,” she said. “Maybe one of the ones I’ve tried to make and I can…”

“No,” Adrien said. “Not… not right now.”

He was staring at his hands, opening and closing a fist. He did it carefully as if grasping something gentle. Breakable, but important.

“Oh,” Marinette said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be… I don’t want you to be _sorry_ ,” Adrien said, then sighed. “I don’t know what I want.”

Another show started. A sitcom Marinette had never seen before. The laugh track was awkward and delayed and she wanted to switch it off, but she was scared of the silence that would follow. They watched the first ten minutes.

“I know I haven’t been good enough at listening,” Marinette said finally. “And I can’t say I’ll understand, but I’m here, okay? I’m here, so will you let me try to listen?”

She held out her hand, inches away from Adrien’s to take. They’d done this before, many times as both Ladybug and Marinette, though Adrien didn’t know the latter. It was still only half an offering, only part of what she ought to give him, but it was more than she had done before. He deserved better, but she was learning too.

Adrien took her hand and pulled it close, squeezing her fingers where his fingers once grabbed only air.

 

The next week, Marinette matched with a small smile as Adrien transformed into Chat. She’d never seen this before, a transformation from the outside, and the only thing she could think of was how beautiful it looked.

With his tail twitching and and claws already on the windowsill, Chat teased her. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“You’ll see soon, kitty,” she said and swung into the night.

Seeing him leap and fly across balconies and rooftops was bliss. It was refreshing, like a cold drink of water after being thirsty for hours. Like the first breath of fresh air after class let out. Chat laughed and dove and spun on his staff, saying his hellos to Paris in a way only the two of them knew how.

Marinette drank the sight of him in and felt a pang in her chest. Like she’d missed him as Chat. No… not _him_ , she missed his smile. The breathless call he’d throw behind him when he thought she was taking too long. The way he stopped still on a chimney to look out at a view, hands and feet tucked under him.

He was Adrien and Chat the same, there was no missing either of them.

Marinette took them along the long route to their destination.

“Time to let the cat out of the bag,” Chat said, tailing her close. “Purrfect time to spill because you know what they say about cats and curiosity…”

“Okay, okay, impatient aren’t you?”

Chat puffed out his chest like he was _proud_ of how irritating he was being. He probably was.

She nudged his arm a little harder than was necessary.

They came to a rest on a rooftop high up on top of a hotel. The wind blew hard around them. A storm was coming in, Marinette remembered from the news that night. Traffic rolled on below them, a few voices spoke in clipped tones at the corner. A dog barked. Marinette knew this corner well. She could close her eyes and imagine the contours of the building they stood with no trouble at all.

“Lady?” Chat said. “Are you alright?”

“Wonderful,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

He hesitated, as she thought he would, but opened his mouth. “A little tired, actually. It was… more than I remembered.” He rubbed his claws against his thigh.

“You’ll tell me if you need a rest, though?”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

“You’ll tell me if you need anything?”

Chat stared at her, his gaze more terrifying to her with all the green. “What do you mean?”

“I was silly before. I still am, but… it seems so stupid to say, but I hated seeing you like that.” Marinette set her tongue, swallowed. “It was hard, Chat.”

Chat leaned in and took her hand without her prompting. “What are you saying?” he said. “What are you… you’re not going to stop visiting me, are you? Now that I’ve, you know, been able to come out here with you? I know you must be busy and, oh god, I’m not even sure what I’m saying, but…”

“I’m not going to leave you, Chat.”

“Please, it isn’t like I don’t have Plagg with me. The Gorilla helps in the ways he can…”

“Chat,” Marinette said. “Adrien. Look at me.”

He did. She needed to keep herself together, for him.

“Tikki, spots off.”

The light engulfed her and closed her eyes.

“Lady?” Chat’s voice hitched.

Marinette stepped back. The wind shook her like it hadn’t when she was in costume.

“I’m not going anywhere, Adrien,” she said.

He was so still, caught with his eyes wide. Marinette felt so exposed, so naked, as herself out like this. When he didn’t move for a few seconds, she thought she had done it all wrong. That this was a bad idea and it should have been kept a secret. That she would send Adrien backward and it would be her fault. It would be…

But then, Chat launched himself at her. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his nose into her hair. They stumbled a little, his momentum more than de-transformed Marinette could handle, and they sank to their knees. She was never worried, though. Her kitty had saved her many times before. He wouldn’t let her fall.

Marinette could feel his chest shaking from sobs he had stopped trying to hold back. His breath ragged, he inhaled and choked and hugged her tighter.

“I’m here, Chat,” she said. “I’m here and I won’t leave. You don’t have to hide from me.”

They stayed there, together, until the wind started to howl and the air grew damp with unfallen rain.

“You live near here,” Chat said, voice gravelly.

“It’s why I brought us,” she said. “Want to come visit? Change things up a little? You can come steal some of _my_ video games for a change.”

Chat peered over the edge of the roof at the city below. Her apartment was the slip of a domed roof and balcony. “I think I’d like that.  


* * *

 

After talking about it with Marinette, Adrien decided to stop modeling. He’d called his agent himself, called the company he’d had a campaign already booked to apologize, and removed his official social media accounts before telling his father.

The bravery it took to stand up to Gabriel, to say _no_ , was almost as good as the high of the hunger or the pride of the numbers lining up just right…

 

When he returned to school, he had excuses practiced. Stories to tell, jokes to share, and even a good reason that he quit that stardom life so suddenly.

“My father thinks it’s better for us to spend time together outside of work,” he lied. Marinette held his hand under the table as he did. “We talked about it. Better for me to focus on school.”

Adrien knew Marinette kept a few nutrition shakes at school. She also had two scones and some of his favorite cookies in her bag with her. He also knew she wouldn’t offer them to him unless he asked.

What she did do, at least once every week, was invite him to her parents’ bakery where they tried to reconstruct recipes from reality television together. Adrien got to pick, as long as they ate dinner together at the end of it.

Marinette was right. She didn’t always know what to say or how to say it, but she listened. She learned to figure out when to leave him alone and when it was better if he wasn’t. She didn’t monitor him like everyone at home still did, but he found he had wanted to tell her how he was doing. What progress he made. When Ladybug said she was proud of him, that meant more to him than anything.

Adrien was still working on letting him be proud of himself. But with Marinette there, wiping flour from his nose, he thought he could get close.

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to me on tumblr, where I pretend to write about psych disorders because I'm in med school or something.  
> http://dieofthatroar.tumblr.com/


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